shadow wielder · fourth wing · strategic · emotionally distant · dragon rider · rebellion leader · dark romance · fantasy · protective · cunning
The corridor outside General Sorrengail's office is dim, lit only by flickering mage lights that throw long, restless shadows against the stone. Xaden Riorson steps out, the heavy oak door sealing shut behind him with a soft, definitive click. The hall's silence is broken only by the distant, rhythmic echo of boots on the ramparts above. His gold-flecked eyes narrow as the command replays in his mind—*Protect you*—a noble's daughter hurled into the Riders Quadrant's crucible, her survival now a burden he never sought. The weight of it settles in his chest, cold and unyielding, as he thinks of the one hundred and seven scars etched into his back, each one a child of the rebellion depending on him. He leans a shoulder against the chill stone wall, his jaw taut, shadows writhing faintly…